


Two-Shot

by KuHana



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: AUNT ADIRA, Brotherhood of the Dark Kingdom (Disney), But only in the second one-shot, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Parent Quirin (Disney), He's not so happy in the first one-shot, Hurt Varian (Disney), I'll go down with this tag, Sassy Varian (Disney), Uncle Hector, Varian's trial, he does his best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:54:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29748054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuHana/pseuds/KuHana
Summary: Just two stories about Varian, his intimidating aunt, and feral uncle (but he only shows up in the second part).
Relationships: Adira & Hector (Disney: Tangled), Adira & Varian (Disney), Hector & Varian (Disney: Tangled), Varian & Adira & Hector (Disney: Tangled)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44





	Two-Shot

**Author's Note:**

> For Crystal
> 
> I'm sorry this took so long to post, ahhh, but college has gotten really work-heavy for me, and I don't have as much time to write anymore. 
> 
> With that said, I'm going to try and have the second one-shot posted soon, as well as the next part of my Rewriting History series. 
> 
> Crystal, I hope you like the story! I wasn't sure how to work the bird transformation in with the rest of what you requested, so I made a separate part focusing on that. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

The guards, two brutes with wide shoulders and a chest full of gold-plated medals, pulled on the rusted chain, aggressively tugging their prisoner down the hall. The trail, one many would surely be talking about for years to come, was about to commence, and they were going to be late, all because the accused was dragging his feet.

“Hurry up,” one of the guards snapped, yanking on the chain. 

The traitor tripped, his knees slamming against the marble floor. He grunted, muttering something under his breath, but neither guard was close enough to hear what it was. 

“What was that?” One of them questioned. 

“Nothing.”

“I’m not so sure about that. William, what if our prisoner was insulting us?”

William hummed thoughtfully. “You’re right, Joseph. It would be deplorable to let such a slip-up go unpunished. After all, what sort of example would that be setting for the rest of our criminals?”

Joseph smirked, and without warning, snatched the traitor up by his shirt collar, lifting him high into the air. “What a shrimp. And to think you caused us so much trouble.” 

“But he did,” William echoed, eyes glazing over, mind flashing back to that accursed night. Many brave men returned injured that day, their arms broken and ribs cracked, some carrying their unconscious brethren while others held their bleeding sides. 

Those men lay resting in the medical wing now, recovering. 

No one died, thank the Sun, but that didn’t matter. The attack was still deadly, resulting in the Queen’s kidnapping, leaving the King and Princess in shambles, forcing them to regroup and take those who had gotten away unscathed back into battle. 

William shook his head, ridding the image from his mind’s eye. Joseph still held the small terrorist, his feet dangling in mid-air, arms lying limp by his sides, bound by thick shackles. 

But when those deep, hunting blue orbs met William’s brown eyes, a shiver ran down the guard’s spine. “He deserves whatever the King decides on,” William hissed, pulling himself away from the two. “Come on, we don’t wanna be late.”

* * *

Eyes, young and old, pinned him down, judging, silently cursing him. Children shied away from him, their small fingers reaching for their parents, scared. Older people, grandparents who’d long since retired from their respective jobs, shook their heads, muttering something about a ‘lost cause’. 

Varian ignored them all, head hung low, bangs keeping half of his face hidden. They didn’t understand why he did what he did-- couldn't even begin to fathom his reasoning. All they saw was a troubled, deranged boy, angry with the royal family, a family who could do no harm, whatsoever. 

To the people of Corona, he was a rat. 

When they finally reached the head of the court, his guards gave the chain once final tug. Metal sunk into his flesh, rubbing it raw, and despite wanting to so badly spit acid at the two, Varian held back. That wasn’t going to earn him any good points with the King. 

“Varian of Old Corona,” Nigel announced, unfolding the parchment handed to him by the Captain. “You stand today, accused of the following; assaulting the Princess, stealing, manipulating the Kingdom, poisoning the guards, kidnapping the Queen, illegal animal experimentation, waging war against the Crown, attempted genocide…” 

_Oh, is that all?_ Varian scowled, rutting his heel into the ground. The charges just kept coming, some true, others false (he never assaulted the Princess, thank you very much). All in all, it wasn’t looking good for him. 

Varian knew that, if execution was off the table, a lifetime in solitary confinement was where he’d be going, fate sealed to a small, cubical room, no windows, two meals a day, and spiky bed with maggot-infested sheets to lay on… 

He frowned. _I think I’d rather be hung._

Still, remorse and regret wormed their way up his throat. No, not for the Princess or her family, but for Ruddiger (his best friend, who Varian transformed into a monster) and Quirin (his father, forever trapped in that _stupid_ mold of amber). 

“How do you plead?” Nigel asked, rolling up the parchment. 

_How else?_ “Guilty,” Varian muttered. All things considered, a liar he was not.

The court murmured amongst themselves, whispering, pointing, speculating. Varian looked off to the side, catching a glimpse of the clouds through a wide window. White, fluffy compounds of water and ice crystals, floating around without a care in the world. If only he was a cloud, able to fly away from everything and everyone. Somewhere far, far, _far_ away. 

“Varian of Old Corona,” the King’s voice boomed. “Your charges are great, and despite your age, I have no choice but to list you as a severe threat to the Crown.”

_No. Really?_ The alchemist bit the inside of his cheek, expression void. 

“As such, I have taken the time to review your actions. Actions that appall me. An attack from an outside source, I suppose I could understand, but to witness such hate from a citizen.” The King shook his head. “Disappointing.” 

Varian felt his eye twitch. Of course. Because there was no way the Princess could disappoint anyone. Hoh, no. Her actions didn't amount to anything. Not like his did. 

The King cleared his throat. “When one addresses you, it is assumed they’d be granted with some level of respect.”

When Varian still refused to acknowledge the royal, his guards gave his shoulder a sharp shove. “Look up,” one of them snapped, forcing his chin skyward. 

Varian recoiled but kept quiet. 

“Good.” The King folded his hands. “Now then, we may continue.” 

With his eyes now up, no longer glued to the window, the alchemist was met with ivy green orbs and rich, blonde hair. 

Right, the Princess was here. Somehow, he thought she’d skip the trial, opting to avoid him like the plague, but nope. There she sat, right next to her mom, looking (or trying to, anyway) right at him. 

Varian scrunched his nose, a fire in the pit of his stomach licking to life. The fight was mostly gone by now, exhaustion taking root, making his bones sore and mind numb. But, with her sitting so close by, remnants of betrayal started to come back. 

He hated the Princess, plain and simple. She may have called him a friend in the past, but was he really? She only ever sought him out for answers, whether that be for her magic hair or the black rocks. Never to just… check in on him, see how he was doing. 

Her boyfriend (who stood nearby with the rest of the royal guard, dressed to the nines in red and gold) didn’t like him from the start, highly suspicious of Varian's intentions. Hell, the days following the boiler incident, Eugene kept calling him Varitos.

Cassandra (seated next to her father, still recovering) threatened him, pointing a sword at his throat after breaking into _his_ house, demanding answers on behalf of the Princess. 

So no, they weren’t his friends. He was a tool, disposable and forgettable. 

“Varian,” Rapunzel started, having taken the floor from her father. “I still can’t believe you did what you did. I…” She twirled a long strand of hair, nervous. “I thought we were friends. I trusted you.” 

He scoffed. _Ya, right._

Apparently, the noise didn’t go unnoticed by the court. The King frowned, slamming his fist. “You will show no disrespect to my daughter,” he bellowed. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good.” The King reached over and put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder, voice soft. “You may continue if you wish, my dear.”

Rapunzel nodded, dusting her lap off in a vain attempt to recompose herself. Eugene cast her a worried look, before sending Varian a sharp glower. 

“I just don’t understand why you did it,” Rapunzel began. “You- you tricked me into committing treason, ran off with the Sun Flower, only coming back to kidnap my mom. I…” She trailed off again, lost in thought. “When I found out, I was hurt, Varian. I never thought you’d do something like this. To me, to Corona.”

_Right, because this is all about you_ , the vindictive part of Varian’s mind growled. _I’m just the bad guy._

Varian wanted to remind the Princess that his loyalty to Corona was severed the second she cast him out into the blizzard. He stopped caring about Corona when the Princess decided to ignore him for months on end, leaving him to deal with the men in red (her _father's_ men) alone. 

No. Varian had no obligation to the royal family or their home. His only concern was his father. 

He bowed his head. 

Rapunzel sighed, looking away. 

* * *

Adira stood on her Shadow Blade, having embedded it into the castle wall, arms behind her back, listening. 

The King didn't sugarcoat anything, laying into her nephew like he would any other run-of-the-mill criminal.

It was hard, standing still, watching as the court painted her nephew in muddy shades of grey. He wasn’t a monster, wasn’t prone to violence or brimming with hate. Last time she visited, he’d been such a little thing, barely four, with a mop of dark hair and eyes blue like the ocean. 

Varian was practically a ball of energy, smiling, running around, going on and on about alchemy, usually donning a pair of too-big goggles and dirty blacksmith apron. 

Adira smiled, relishing the memory. 

“By order of the Queen and myself,” The King spoke, breaking the serene image. “I sentence you, Varian of Old Corona, to solitary confinement. Indefensibly.” 

Her nephew didn’t object, nor did he refute the sentence. He didn’t say anything.

Adira knelt down, reaching for the hilt of her weapon. Time to make her grand entrance. 

* * *

Before the guards could drag the prisoner away, a woman, with soft tan skin and striking face paint, appeared before them, like some sort of phantom. Wordlessly, the tips of her cold fingers pressed into the back of their necks, hitting a nerve. 

Both guards went down instantly, bones giving out under the heavyweight of their armor. 

The woman smiled, pushing the young men away with the heel of her boot, and knelt so that she was level with Varian. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” she greeted, taking the boy in. “You grew. Though, not by much.”

Varian's jaw fell open. “W-who… I mean, what--”

“Hold that thought.” Adira swung her sword and disarmed the oncoming guards, their weapons shattering on impact, silver pieces drizzling to the ground like snowfall. The warrior smirked, preening under the royal’s fearful (Rapunzel) and angered (the King) expressions. 

“Halt, in the name of King Frederic and Queen Arianna,” the Captain shouted. He’d been sitting in the pews, alongside his daughter, helmet resting on his lap when the intruder broke in. Now, that very same helmet shined under the courtroom lights, fastened atop his head. 

Cassandra drew a dagger she’d kept tucked away in her boot, but her stance was not as strong as the Captains. Eugene quickly put himself in front of the Princess. 

Adira stopped, but not before breaking a piece of the jury desk off and chucking it at an escaping guard member. It hit the man head-on, gravity pulling the limp body downward. She chuckled. 

“Hey! I said stand down.”

“Alright, alright.” She seethed her Shadow Blade and went to stand by her nephew, who looked to be in the middle of a mental crisis. 

“State your name,” The King demanded, his arm secured around his slightly pale wife. 

“Oh, right, sorry. My name is Adira.” The warrior’s tone came out carefree and open, there was a sense of underlying danger that many picked up on. Adira held her breath, pausing dramatically, before finishing. “I hale from the Dark Kingdom.” 

The citizens gasped. 

“The Dark Kingdom? You have no merit here,” Nigel chimed in. 

“Actually, I do.” The warrior boldly put her hand on Varian’s shoulder. He jumped a little. “When the matter involves my nephew.” 

The courtroom practically fell into an uproar, hissing from one person to the other. Individuals on the jury exchanged looks, silently debating between themselves on if this should affect Varian’s sentence or not. 

The King slammed his fist against his seat. “Silence!” 

Immediately, the room simmered down, impatient waiting on what their leader would do. Was he going to address the newcomer? Or order the woman to leave? 

“Adira of the Dark Kingdom,” Fredric spoke, after analyzing the turn of events. “Do you understand why your nephew is here?”

The warrior hummed. “I do.”

“Then, you can not, in good conscience, expect us to extend the hand of leniency.” 

“I’m not asking you to do anything.” Adira felt Varian tense under her fingers, and in an attempt to soothe him, she started rubbing circles along his shoulder and upper back. “However, I feel the need to bring this up; why?”

The King arched an eyebrow. “Why what.”

“Why did Varian do it? Act out.”

“Act out?” Nigel snorted. “I hardly call what he did acting out. That boy is a menace.” He huffed, gripping the scroll to his chest. “I can’t begin to fathom how a child could subject his own kingdom to such treachery.”

Adira narrowed her gaze, sizing the advisor up. “Everyone has a reason for doing what they do.”

“And I am telling you that, whatever his reasons may be, it no longer matters. Your nephew acted of his own accord and therefore must be punished,” Nigel persisted. A course of agreement sounded within the crowd. 

“Just so I understand correctly, no one here knows why the kid attacked your city and royal monarch,” the warrior confirmed. Her words were met with silence. 

That was it. This was all she needed.

Adira folded her hands behind her back. “I see. Well, far be it from me to get in the way of _justice_.” 

Nigel rolled his eyes, muttering something to the King. Queen Arianna had her head down, conflicted, nails tapping out an unsteady rhythm along her lap. Their daughter, Rapunzel, the Sundrop, if Adira was remembering correctly, stared off to the side, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 

Right. 

She turned on her heel, slashed the shackles, and chain off, before hauling Varian over her shoulder and making a beeline for the window, grinning when her nephew yelped, his voice coming out girlish and squeaky. 

“Don’t worry,” Adira shouted, tightening her hold around the thin teen just as the courtroom exploded in shocked cries. “I’ve done this before.”

* * *

“What?” Varian gasped. “How is that supposed to make me feel better?!”

His belly felt like it had lost all of its weight, logging itself somewhere in between his ribs and throat. Hair was suddenly all over the place, poking his eyes and knotting around his ears. 

"I'm gonna be sick..." Varian muttered, head filling with fog. 

"Not on me, nephew." 

"H _mm_..." That was going to take some getting used to. Nephew. So he had an aunt... 

_She must be from out of town,_ he thought. But if that's right, why was she here? Now? Did she hear about his trial? Probably. After all, it wasn't exactly kept under wraps. 

He jolted when Adira landed on the ground, the impact having no effect on her. 

"Wha--"

"Not yet," Adira cut off, sprinting down the cobblestone pathway. 

She moved so fast! Varian could hardly believe it, the passing shops and houses blurring into disfigured blobs. 

The pair dodged startled bakers carrying their latest creations, traveling merchants setting up shop curbside, couples out on a daily stroll, carriages. 

Adira didn't hesitate once, swiftly maneuvering the both of them around everything. She even had time to snag a fresh pastry, grinning at the wide-eyed Monty. 

_She's... she's amazing._

Her hold slacked only when she was sure they were far enough from the castle, setting the dizzy boy down on the lush, forest grass. 

Varian swayed, his legs numb. "Um, oh, wow, I..." He turned and abruptly heaved into a nearby bush. 

* * *

Adira frowned, rubbing her nephew's back. Maybe she overdid it a little. 

When he finished, she offered him a piece of cloth and water carrier. 

"Thanks," he whispered, voice horse. 

"Don't mention it." Her hands retreated to her back, folding neatly. While her nephew cleaned himself up, she surveyed the area, eyeing the upturned dirt and broken branches. 

"Um, here." Varian awkwardly held up the can of water, now only half full. "I... I don't think you want the cloth back." 

"No. You can keep it. Or toss it." She hooked her fingers around his elbow, leading him deeper into the woods. "Personally, I'd toss it." 

Varian followed her, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "Ya. Right." 

* * *

Conversation fizzled out from there, but that was fine. Varian wasn't sure what he'd say if Adira wanted to keep talking. 

Sure, he had questions. So, so many questions. An abundance of questions. Questions like: Where does she come from? Why did she save me? Why does she care? _Does_ she care? Is this all a trap? Is she lying? 

Sweat started to run down Varian's spine and forehead, dampening his thick bangs, making them stick to his cheeks and nose. 

_Maybe I should ask where we're going...?_ That'd probably be a good idea. 

Varian quickly tried to gather up as much courage as he could, forcing his voice to sound brave instead of on edge and shaky. "Where are you taking me?"

He winced, feeling his tone crack midway. Well, so much for sounding brave. 

Adira glanced over her shoulder, her lips tilted up by the corners. "Somewhere where the Crown won't find you."

"You mean Frederic?"

"Not unless you've got another King threatening you."

"No." Varian felt his cheeks grow warm. Wouldn't that be something? "No, just the one."

"Hm. Oh, hold on." Adira stopped so suddenly, that Varian rammed right into her side.

"Ow, why did you stop?" He jumped when he felt a hand gently brush his locks aside, tucking them behind his ear.

"Where else did they hurt you?"

"What?"

Her fingers traced the purple blotch forming just above his right brow. He winced. "Ow!" Varian pulled back, clutching his forehead. "That hurt."

Adira wordlessly drew him back in. "Hold still."

"Wait--" 

Something warm and soft touched his purple skin. The pain evaporated almost instantly. 

Varian swallowed thickly, watching, transfixed, as the tall woman pulled away. He blinked, dumbstruck. "W-what did you... did you just...?" The only person to ever kiss his forehead had been his mom and dad. 

Adira smiled. "Yup."

"But- what- I-" Why was it suddenly so hot? "I don't... I don't know you," he stuttered, "Why are you helping me? I..." 

"I told you why. You're--"

"I know," Varian snapped, clutching his hair. "I know. I'm your nephew, but you don't _know me!"_

"Well, it's been a while. Last I saw you, you barely reached my hip. That was a few years back, but I doubt you've changed _that_ much."

Varian almost choked. "Huh?"

"You heard me." 

"I... I don't get it."

"You don't have to." She held out her hand, palm up. 

Varian bit her lip, hesitant. Trusting people was not something he wanted to be doing anytime soon. He trusted Rapunzel, after all, and look where that got him. She’d plastered on a sweet smile and used her honeyed words to sway him into doing whatever she asked. It was only when he needed her help, that the doors got shut in his face.

What if that same thing happened with Adira. What if this woman just wanted to use him too.

  
  
  
  
  
  


... but what if she didn't? 

Varian eyed her open hand, taking in how welcoming and accepting it looked. 

She did say she was his aunt, right? That made her his dad's sister. T-That made her family, and dad was always very family-oriented. 

Sure, Quirin wasn’t the best at sharing things, wasn’t great at showing much emotion or talking about the past or his lost wife... but despite all of that, Varian never felt alone. 

He was never pushed away, never isolated from his father. There might have been a wall between them, but it was thin and flimsy at best.

Quirin protected his son, no questions asked. He mediated the townsfolk, turning their attention away whenever one of Varian's inventions backfired. He kept him safe from the local bullies and naysayers. Tucked him in when he stayed up late working on an experiment. Brought him warm soup and blankets when he fell ill. 

His dad, for all of his short-comings, never failed to protect him.

If Varian was going to stick around anyone, it... well, it might as well be his aunt. 

Slowly, he reached up, tangling thin, bony fingers around Adira's slender, healthy ones. "Okay." 

Adira grinned. "Good. Now, follow me. We've got a lot of ground to cover." 

  
  



End file.
